


Singing The Song

by Niler



Series: Common Ground [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niler/pseuds/Niler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book 3 of Straight Shooter - still living, still loving</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing The Song

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in the Common Ground Series, which has been conceived as Book 3 of Straight Shooter. Undecided whether or not I'll post any more than this one. Perhaps the one that follows since it's somewhat ted to this one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Singing The Song

 

 

 

 

It's still surprising, though, to find out that there are parts of Liam's personality that are a complete mystery to him.

He is _sure_ he knows him, sure he knows him inside out; will swear to anyone that asks that, to him, at least, Liam is an open book.

But he isn't: he is still full – _full_ – of surprising corners, nooks and crannies, capable of apparent head-yanking contradictions – contradictions which _he_ takes completely in stride.

It's pretty clear, now, that Liam isn't an open book at all.

Knowing this, being sure of this, probably _shouldn’t_ be thrilling – but it absolutely is...

 

 

**

 

“How do you mean? You're okay with everything, aren't you?” Liam's voice always sounds so much deeper over the phone and Zayn wonders when the fuck he's going to get over 'the voice thing' (as Louis and Harry have teasingly dubbed it).

“Just a bit nervous. Nothing to worry about, babe – you know what I'm like about flying.”

“Wish I could be with you – you know I want to be with you.”

Zayn doesn't have the heart to tell him that he hates having to put on a brave face for him - just so he won't worry - and much prefers travelling when he knows Liam won't be keeping an anxious eye on him (on the quiet of course, since he'll never let on that he's anxious – to Zayn or the others). “I know, babe, but it'll be over soon and it'll be well worth the throwing-up thing.”

Liam makes a sound of distaste. “You don't still throw up, do you?” He sounds ready to finish with him if he commits the schoolboy error of answering in the affirmative.

Zayn grins to himself. “Just joking – _exaggerating:_ it really isn't that bad anymore. It's more to do with...you know.”

“I know, but it's exciting too, though, isn't it?”

Now he is definitely meant to answer in the affirmative, and, well, that's an easy task. “I cannot wait!”

“Me either.” His silence is one of Zayn's favourite kinds – the 'I'm figuratively raining kisses all over your face right now' kind. “Love you, babe. Can't wait to be with you.”

“Same. Love you.”

“See you soon. And Zayn?”

“Liam.”

“Be careful.”

“Don't worry. Bye bye.”

“See ya.”

 

 

**

 

Liam thrives on action, loves intrigue, and all that kind of stuff.

Zayn doesn't, would rather just go underground, hibernate for half the year, only surface when absolutely necessary, so this undertaking isn't really his cup of tea.

It's necessary though - the only way - and though it's possibly the most aggravating aspect of fame, he's learned to roll with it, not allow the irritation to grow into something that might actually end up causing a problem.

This isn't a problem, exactly, just a very unwelcome by-product of the lives they're living.

He's travelling at his least favourite time of the day for travel – dawn, yes, but most importantly, the time, he'd prefer to be curled around a warm Liam rather than freezing his arse off on a motorway, heading north.

He's half asleep (since lately it feels like he's doing his best to catch up on the sleep he's missed out on over the course of the last two years), cold and miserable, not in any way ready to exchange pleasantries with the guys beside him.

He'll apologise for his surliness later – when he's feeling better disposed to other members of the human race...

If he knew that, at the end of this damn car ride, there'd be a warm Liam to welcome him, he'd feel a _lot_ better.

But there won't be, and knowing this, is not helping his mood at all right now.

 

 

**

 

“'Bout to board. You?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound pissed off.”

“I'm cold.”

“Oh poor baby. Well, don't worry you'll soon have more warm than you can handle.”

Zayn wants to say something thoroughly miserable in response, but it's _Liam_ on the end of the line, and since that's what he's been wanting for the last 8 hours... “Promise?”

“With knobs on.”

He couldn't say which one of them starts laughing first.

But suddenly the cold gets several degrees less bothersome.

 

**

 

Being rich, being feted is not something he thinks one should take for granted.

He still feels like a fraud when he sees the way doors open for him simply because of who he is – or rather, not because of _who_ he is, but because of the amount of money and fame he has.

He knows that no matter how he'd like to say none of it's had an affect, that he hasn't been altered by his status, it wouldn't be true.

He's aware that he does take for granted much that would have been unthinkable even 18 months ago, and he isn't sure quite what to do with this slightly uncomfortable awareness.

This flight, all the running around to make this happen, isn't something ordinary people can command – and that makes him very uneasy.

He knows that Liam handles it better than he does. Liam thinks he deserves it all – that they all do – that they're paying a price for all the fame and wealth; that the money is bare compensation for the stuff they have to endure.

And he's right, in a way – it's just that Zayn hasn't quite managed to match Liam's ease with it all.

And yes, this is one of the things that's surprised him about Liam; Liam acts like he was born to wealth, that he expects to continue to be wealthy, that the money will always be there.

Zayn knows that Liam intends to always be successful, famous, wealthy, but that is something that he _hadn't_ known about him - at first.

He's so humble, so generous, so genuinely grateful for the opportunity he's been given that to see him speak of being wealthy, deserving of wealth with such certainty, such a lack of self-consciousness takes him a little surprise.

But the fact is it's his ease with their status that allows him to even dare to implement this plan, and Zayn, therefore, cannot argue with that at all.

He would never have had Liam's chutzpah in demanding this – not ever.

He'd have wanted it, but never had the balls, the arrogance to demand it!

When Liam told him he was coming on holiday with them his first instinct was to ask how the hell he was going to manage it.

Liam had simply said: “Don't worry – they'll make it happen. Leave it to me, I just want you to be okay with where I'm planning to take you.”

And that had, essentially, been that: Liam arranged all the details, arranged the thing like a military bloody operation.

And all with a gleam in his eye that aroused the _fuck_ out of him.

There was something about single-minded Liam that tended to do that!

And so, here they were: on separate flights, heading to a luxury resort where they'd spend their first holiday together.

Liam had assured him that his mum and sisters would be occupied with their own concerns, which meant they'd be together the majority of the time, had even threatened to 'see how well the swimming lessons had taken'!

It was at that point that Zayn, with growing suspicion, asked him whether the lessons about which he'd been so insistent had any connection to this at all; and to tell him just how he'd been planning it.

Liam, in his inimitable way had simply said: “All my life, babe.”

 

 

**

 

The sun's unlike any sun he's ever seen, the sea ridiculously clear – blue, green; the colours he'd seen in brochures and never quite believed were real.

When he gets to his room, opens the balcony doors, walks out on to the verandah and stares out into the distance he feels the sting of tears, does his best to hold them at bay.

“I know,” Liam says, putting both arms around him, hugging him tight, then kissing his ear. “I can't believe we're here, either. I couldn't be here with anyone but you, babe – it wouldn't feel the same without you here.”

Zayn says nothing, simply places both hands on Liam's and leans into his warmth.

 

 

**

 

“Oh my god, I cannot take them anywhere – they all look like lobsters!”

Zayn pokes him in the ribs with a firm elbow: he doesn't like when Liam disses his family, even when he knows it's done with affection.

“They probably need to take a break from the sun,” he says with measured diplomacy. The Paynes – the female Paynes – seem to have a dangerous addiction to the sun, and he really thinks they might _possibly_ be in need of an intervention.

Geoff's been sensible and elected to limit his time in the open...

Zayn looks up at Liam. The newly golden tan of his skin makes his mouth water, and coughing, he quickly turns his attention to his drink.

Liam places a firm albeit gentle hand on his thigh, clearly not missing the spike of arousal Zayn's tried so hard to hide. “Wanna go inside?” His voice is very, very casual.

Zayn glances across the pool: the Paynes are blissfully bathing in the rays of the sun, so intoxicated he and Liam could probably get jiggy right there and they wouldn’t be any the wiser.

Still... He isn't sure this isn't a little too obvious; can't help thinking it's like newly-weds having to live at home with their families until they can affords the deposit for their first house. It's sanctioned – official - but you still don't feel comfortable doing the deed when they’re around.

“In a bit,” he forces himself to say, avoiding Liam's eye.

Liam leans over and takes his mouth in a demanding kiss. “I _know_ you haven't had enough of me yet,” he teases, making patterns on Zayn's thigh with his nails. “Take no notice. If they could sleep through last night then I don't think we've anything to worry about.”

Zayn gives him a quelling look; the least said about the events of the previous night the happier he’ll be.

The Paynes may have had an apartment a little distance from theirs but he is fully aware that hadn't mattered a damn last night!

“I want to have another drink first.”

“To keep up your strength?” he asks, pouring with one hand, while the other continues its relentless tease.

Zayn pinches at the scratching hand, but sees only the spark of arousal in the familiar brown eyes, which, naturally, sets up a corresponding, cascading shower of arousal in him.

Damn it!

“Okay,” he relents, with a lack of grace that amuses the hell out of Liam. “But if you do what you did last night I'll...”

“Scream?”

He's running before the synapses in Zayn's brain have fired up enough to send his body the message to make a grab...

 

 

 

**

 

“It keeps getting better. How does it keep getting better?”

If Liam's actually expecting an answer then he's not as clued -up as Zayn always believed. “Your mouth, Zayn...” He's tracing the outline of his mouth as he speaks. His eyes are mellow, but bright, and Zayn knows that he'll never, ever get used to that look, never get used to the way he looks at him.

Reaching up, he rubs a thumb over Liam's left eyebrow, smooths the hairs. “Don't wanna talk.”

Liam nods, leans down to kiss the hollow of his neck.

And Zayn closes his eyes, wondering when this will be their life - minus all the parts that make it so hard right now.

But if there are things he'll need to do to make it happen, make it happen sooner rather than later, then he'll do them – no question.

He cannot bear to imagine how much Liam will change once they're back in the UK, how the look he's seeing now will give way to pain and endurance and unhappiness.

“Babe, how about if we got a place – just us - a villa or something, and we went there when things got too much? I don't know where, but somewhere warm, like this – but not so expensive. I mean we could buy it and rent it out for sot of the year...” He hasn’t thought it through, had only come to it because he'd wanted to imagine an outlet for him - for both of them – somewhere they knew they had for all the times it got too much. Even the idea of it made him feel lighter.

And looking into Liam's face saw that the same was true for him.

He was smiling, truly smiling; truly, truly happy. “Babe that is a brilliant idea! Yeah, man, yeah.” He rolls over on to his back, staring up at the ceiling as he begins to talk, and Zayn rolls onto his elbow, smiling fondly down into his face, takes hold of his hand and listens...

 

 

**

 

He'd sort of already had 'the talk' from Liam's dad, but when he came in to the lounge on the final day of their holiday and saw Geoff sitting there instinctively knew that there was another one coming.

“I see you were sensible and decided not to go shopping. Our Liam should have learned by now, but I don't know, he falls for it every time.”

Zayn laughs – it's true: Liam is a soft touch when it comes to the women in his life, but he's no different, so he has no room to mock him. “Well, you know why.”

“Zayn, that is a very good excuse.” Geoff high-fives him and he hides his smile – they have all been bad influences on him. “Not sure anyone here actually knows who 1 Direction are, but that is a damn good excuse!”

“I know. Pity Liam can't use that one.”

“I know, but he's done what he needs to.”

And Zayn can sense that the talk's about to drop.

Geoff is a pretty serious guy, but he doesn't tend to interfere much in his kids' affairs.

He has crazy love for Liam, though, and Zayn's always felt that he sees him as Liam's protector, so does tend to speak to him on a level he doesn't think even Liam's aware of.

“You had a good time?”

“The best. Thank you for letting me come along.”

Geoff frowns at him. “Well, it was never our holiday – it was always yours and Liam's holiday – that we were involved on.” Oh, is that how they see it? “In the middle of February?” He laughs. “No, it was going to be just the two of you, but for some reason he decided to include the rest of us.” When their eyes meet, it's clear that neither of them are in any doubt as to _why_ that happened. “So me and Liam's mum see it as a nice, unexpected break for us. Hope the next time you two come here it won't be with a bunch of old fogeys hanging round.”

“I don't think Ruth and Nicola will appreciate the old fogeys thing.”

“Well, to be fair, they are worse than me and his mum!” He taps his nose in a way that elicits a blush – pretty clear what he's alluding to. “Who'd have thought they were mature young ladies! I hope you know not to take any notice of them.”

Blushing uncontrollably now, Zayn sits, trying to look as cool and casual as he can. The truth is he was more than able to take the ribald commentary from Liam's sisters; it's Liam's dad referencing the same things that's making him uncomfortable.

“Zayn, can we talk man to man?”

Oh god, what now? “Of course, Geoff – always.”

Geoff sits for a moment, contemplating his folded hands. He seems to be choosing his words with care. “You and Liam are definitely planning to get wed, right?”

“Definitely,” he says firmly – that's an easy one.   So far, so good.

“Good, good. You know it's not gonna be easy, don't you?”

“I do.”

“Hold your horses, son – we're not there yet.!”

Zayn laughs, in surprised amusement. Geoff has a dry sense of humour he really appreciates, but he hadn’t expected him to be in that kind of mood right now. “Practice makes perfect,” he quips, enjoying himself

“And if I know our Liam he'll practice a hundred bloody times before he'll think he's got it right. Only _he_ would think you had to _practice_ saying 'I do' a hundred times!”

“He's a Virgo.”

Geoff shakes his head. “That’s what our Ruth always says. No damn idea what it means, but anyway, what I’m trying to say, son, is that it's not going to be easy for you and Liam. And no, I'm not just talking about the obvious. Hard enough trying to make it work when you're an ordinary boy from Wolverhampton – or Bradford – but when you're pop idols... Hey I saw that!” He shrugs. “I don't know what the lingo is these days – pop stars, whatever – you know what I mean.”

“I don't, either – pop stars will do, I suppose.” Zayn knows he's meant to be all solemn about this – he's sure that's Geoff's aim – but Geoff has a way of making him smile (even when he doesn't mean to) and he's finding it hard to establish the right air of gravity the situation demands.

“Well, anyway. I've seen what that looks like for you lot – complete bloody madness. I've seen our Liam _cry_ when he sees the crowds more than once, and I know you get scared too, sometimes. It's not what me and his mum ever thought would happen. We supported him all the way – and that's not gonna stop – but bloody hell Zayn, it's not what we expected! It's total insanity and I just worry about you getting wed in that kind of circus. No, let's face facts – that's what your lives have become, and it's only going to get worse.”

“I know... but it might not. I honestly don’t see how it could. It's like a natural state of inertia – can't remain static, so it might get worse for a while, but logically, it won't remain _that_ way either, so it's likely to get better too – at some point.”

Geoff's staring at him, a comical frown on his face. “I often wondered why our Liam came back from your house with that look on his face – like he'd just been hit over the head with the Encyclopedia Britannica!”

Zayn laughs. “Is that why – thought it was cos he fell on his head practising the break dance moves!”

“Well, that too, yeah!”

When they laugh it's like there's a secret between them; that they'd never let Liam know they’ve been making fun of him.

“I don't know, I want to give you my whole-hearted blessing, but I worry, not gonna pretend I don't.”

“We're not planning to do it yet – we're gonna wait a bit.”

“I know. Liam's all for doing it tomorrow, don't think I don't know that, but I know you'll keep him- I was gonna say straight, but I think that's the wrong word, isn't it?”

Trying to keep a straight face Zayn pretends to consider. “Depends – I'll keep him on the straight and narrow, but as for keeping him straight...” He starts laughing.

“Yeah,” Geoff sighs, “It's what I thought.” And then winks, before pulling him into a warm, familiar embrace.

He is still taken aback by the contrast between Geoff's appearance and his personality, the way he is so ready with his affection for his wife, for his daughters, his son – and his son's partner.

He hugs him back, and not for the first time thanks his lucky stars for the Paynes – every single one of them...

 

 

**

 

“Oh don't pretend; I know that look.” Liam's helping him pack. He's topless, wearing Zayn's favourite pair of jeans – no boxers, the waistband just low enough to keep the gaze returning to the paler strip of skin, just barely peeking out.

He used to think Liam did it on purpose, but realises now that mostly he just simply doesn't have a clue. He has no idea what Zayn likes about his face, his body, so when he manages to look sinfully alluring it's not a result of artifice, merely happy accident.

“What look?”

“The 'I've been talking to your dad, again, and once again, I'm gonna keep it a secret' look.”

“Liam,” he says patiently. “Me and your dad have been here all day – of course I bloody talked to him!”

He allows Liam to watch him, drink him in, because that's one of his favourite things in the world. But he'll wait for him to speak – clearly he has something to say...

Liam leans against the very expensive dresser and Zayn wants to tell him to be careful, but resists. They are leaving today and it would be just their luck to incur extra charges in a really stupid way, but he's not going to say that to him. “He asked you about getting married, didn’t he?”

“Sort of.”

“What did he say?”

Zayn looks at him, trying to gauge his mood. He seems a little anxious, so Zayn decides to simply reassure, not tease. “Just that it was going to be hard and that we should definitely wait a bit.”

Liam makes an impatient sound. “That’s what they _all_ say. Mum and dad got married bloody young, but they always think 'it's different for us'. I'm sure, you're sure – what does it matter that we're only 20?”

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Well, I agree, but that’s not what he was saying, really. It was about being in the band - the fans, the attention – all of that. He thinks it's gonna be really hard.”

“I know, but-”

“You know he's behind us, babe – it wasn't like that at all. Just worried about you, about you handling the pressure.”

“I don’t care. The only thing I care about, Zayn, is being married to you – everything else can go fuck itself!”

He seems in need of a hug so Zayn offers him one, a kiss too.

“We'll make it, babe, you know that.”

“I do, I just wish other people would believe it too.”

“Well, they don't know what we know, do they? All they see are the reasons why not – only _we_ know the reasons why.”

Liam looks into his eyes and sighs. “Thank you, babe. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“No, you don't.”

“I do.”

“I do, too.”

And smiling, Zayn pulls him into another, longer embrace.

 

 

**

 

It's really worrying how quickly the good feelings disappear. The moment they part to follow their separate routes back to the UK the bad feelings descend on him. It' s a little like entering a room full of toxic smoke; in his eyes, his lungs, his hair, permeating the entirety of his physical body, but unlike smoke this toxicity also enters his soul...

And the very worst thing is that he knows that even with his family around him Liam will be feeling much the same way.

He tries not to hate his life, but that's getting increasingly harder and harder to do.

 

**

 

Liam sounds irritable, stretched to the limit.

“Oh babe, what is it?”

“Fucking _everything_! We've had a really fucked up journey. Mum's upset – she's in a bit of pain from the sunburn and everything, and I just want to get home! I forgot what fucking bastards people can be!”

“Okay, babe, relax-”

“I'm fucking trying!”

“I know, I know, but you know how you get when you're stressed. Just take a deep breath and try to-”

“I can't, Zayn – I'm really pissed off! It's just one thing after another. People staring, pointing, making fun of the girls. It's just too fucking much!”

He sounds close to tears, and Zayn is angry, wishing desperately that he could be there to comfort him. “Okay, baby, I know, I know, but listen; you'll get through it – I know you can do it. You need to look after them, so just take a deep breath and let it go.”

He can hear Liam inhale, and then after a few seconds slowly exhale. “Yeah, that's good, babe. Do it one more time. Good. And keep doing that every time it feels like it's getting too much.”

“Okay. And sorry, babe, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Don;t be daft – I want you to pick up that phone and phone me _every_ time it's getting too much! Promise?”

“Yeah, okay.” Another breath - a standard one this time. “Thanks, babe. Love you so much. Can't wait to see you. Where are you?”

“Not where I want to be.” He lowers his voice and proceeds to tell Liam exactly where it is he wants to be...

 

**

 

The journey would have been better had he not been so wound up over Liam's distress, but he knows, for all that, that he's had the easier time – Liam elected to be the one taking the flak, the one in the headlights all so _he_ could travel incognito, and he vows that it's never, ever going to be this way again.

 

 

**

 

Liam's back in London, but Zayn's giving him a little time to acclimate, decompress.

He likely wouldn't want to be around him right now in any case.

But it's so hard.

It feels like forever since they saw each other, and though it’s not unheard of for them to go a few days without seeing each other, the holiday changed so much for them that it feels like torture right now.

He will not call him, not even to see how he is.

He will not call him.

Will not call him...

 

**

 

Liam's come straight from the airport. He looks tired, careworn, and the way he's desperately holding on breaks Zayn's heart.

He's crying.

Ant and Danny, who probably wanted to greet him, instead sidle, with customary diplomacy, out of the room.

Zayn hears the click of the front door a a second later.

He doesn't speak, neither of them speak.

There’s nothing to say.

There’s too much to say.

 

 

**

 

“I did try, but I was just so pissed off. It felt like everything we'd had the week before was like a dream, like this fucking nightmare is the real thing and what we had was the dream, and then with all the crowds and the noise and people staring and being so fucking rude I just couldn’t take it. Sorry, so sorry, babe. I know I said I wouldn't-”

“Shhh.” He stops him with a gentle finger against the lips. “I understand. I'd have lost it too.”

Liam sighs. “All I could think of was you, wanting to make sure you wee okay, wanting to touch base with you.” He touched Zayn's hair. “Does it feel that way to you, too – like stepping back into a fucking nightmare.”

“Voluntarily. Yeah, yeah it does, but we've go to find a way to deal with that. We've still got the rest of it to live through.”

“I just feel that I can't anymore, Zayn – I really do. It's becoming really fucking hard.”

“I know, but we have to.”

“I know, but that villa – we need to do that. I swear if I don't have that, a way to just get away - with you - I'll go fucking crazy.”

“Let's sort it then.”

“Please. Can we talk about it now?”

And Zayn knows exactly why he wants to – planning that, looking to a solution makes all the feelings of helplessness, the drowning by increments feeling, retreat for a little while, so he throws himself wholeheartedly into the planning of their little private home from home, and tells the creeping feeling of dark depression to go away for another day.

 

 

**

 

When they imply that he and Liam won't be allowed to get another vacation like that – not on their watch - he tells them to fuck off – in so many words. He knows exactly the limits of their power, what they can expect from him and Liam, what _they_ are obliged to do in order to keep their agreement ticking over, so he tells them where to get off.

He will take Liam away whenever he gets the opportunity, and he'd like to see what they think they can do about it.

Now he knows exactly how they operate, he knows what not to reveal and who to not reveal it to, so them finding out exactly where they have their villas and cottages will be quite a task.

They’re more than welcome to try to figure them out.

Funny, really, to think that _they're_ the ones who've taught him – and Liam – exactly how to fuck them over, how to practice - and perfect – the art of subterfuge.

The irony, might, with any luck, one day kill them.

 

 

**

 

“If I wanted us to go away one weekend and have a beach wedding in Bermuda, would you say no way?”

“That is _not_ what I was expecting.” Zayn licks the droplet of sweat from his chin. “How are you not out of breath?”

“I knew you were going to be working me like a donkey tonight so I did an extra workout.” Liam bites him just above the left breast.

“Ow!”

“Oh come on, like that hurt.” He kisses the bitemark all the same.

“Your teeth are like shark's teeth – told you a million times. They're little but can cut a man in half no problem.”

“How about my cock? I think you said it was like a horse's? Do you think _that_ could cut a man in half?” He rolls on top of him, nips teasingly at his bottom lip.

“Well, put it this way – you've tried, but so far you haven’t managed to, so maybe not so much with the horse cock, then.”

“Well there goes my self-esteem.” He kisses him properly this time, and when he tries to roll away, Zayn holds him, returns the kiss, with interest. “Oh there ya go – it's back!”

“Your self-esteem?”

“My erection,” he winks, a teasing grin on his face.

Zayn adjusts his position, managing to free his legs enough to wrap around Liam's hips. “And no, of course not.”

“Sure?”

“Positive.”

“All white?”

“Bit of pink and blue too.”

“Them Hawaiian necklaces made of flowers?”

“Why not?”

“Western or traditional?”

“Traditional.”

“Okay.”

“Sure?”

“I hoped you'd say that – Western isn't what I want.”

“You're gonna look so good.”

“You're gonna look better.”

And something shifts...

It feels like something _more_ than when Liam asked him initially – it's like being asked again, but this time without the long engagement; it's like knowing that it's more than a wish, more than a promise of 'some day'.

Liam has the unerring ability to find the exact _spot_ , the exact phrase or facial expression to make him turn into marshmallow.

Zayn only prays that once they're married he won't bloody well abuse it: doesn't fancy spending the rest of his life all gooey and good for nothing. No good to anyone...

But maybe that's what Liam's aiming for – to make it so that he won't be able to respond to _anyone_ else.

Far as Zayn's concerned he's already there – has been forever.

Not gonna tell _him_ that though.

There is only one swollen head he wants Liam to have – and it doesn't rest atop his shoulders.

He knows Liam's got something planned for Valentines' Day.

But Zayn's trumped him; doesn't matter what he's got planned – Zayn's surprise will trump anything he's got in mind.

And he very carefully keeps his smug smile strictly to himself as he plays with the clean, sweetly-scented strands of Liam's hair.

 


End file.
